I Get Misty
by Jessica Simpson-Bourget
Summary: A/U ending to "Cliffie's Big Score". Diane goes back to the bar after dumping Cliff on the side of the road. First chapter is a mild T, the second is a for real M. Reviews are always appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Diane returned to Cheers in a bit of a huff, and still a little flustered. Carla and her "date" had dropped her off before going back to fetch Cliff, and between his antics and prolonged exposure to the disturbing rut on wheels that consumed the back seat of the Studebaker, she'd hit the wall. As she descended the steps though, she felt her tension release, as it usually did these days, and she smiled seeing Sam waiting where she left him. He had almost finished cleaning the now empty bar, and was ready to lock up for the night. Surprised by the sound of the door, he looked up and returned her smile. "Well, hello there, Cinderella! How was the ball?"

"Let's just say it was an affair to remember, and leave it at that."

"Oh, was it now? And would Prince Charming agree?" Sam teased, knowing Cliff never stood a chance with this princess.

"Well, it turns out he was a wolf in prince's raiment, so I released him into the wilds of Route 114. I was less than charmed."

Sam doubled over with loud laughter at the thought. What the hell did Cliffie try to pull? Not that he blamed him in the least. Diane on an average day was too much temptation for mere mortals, let alone a poor sap like Cliff. In that dress, forget about it. Still, he gave him credit for having the nerve to try. He understood the impulse all too well.

Diane smiled. She loved his laugh. It was loud and exuberant and from someplace deep within him, and truly was the music of her soul. It gave her goosebumps just thinking of it, and when she was in the same room, it warmed her from head to toe. She especially loved it when she was the one who made him laugh.

Wiping tears of hilarity from the corners of his eyes, Sam leaned against the bar and caught his breath.

"Walk with me," Sam said, turning toward the back room. "I've gotta cover the pool table, but I need details. Lots and lots of details... You mind locking the door while you're over there?"

Diane locked up and then turned to follow him down the dim hallway, enjoying the low rustle of her dress as it swayed with every step. Despite the debacle of the car ride home, she felt wonderful. And beautiful. And right about now, she didn't want the evening to end.

"Well, he was quite sweet at the ball, actually- the perfect gentleman, and obviously quite nervous, but proud. He couldn't stop thanking me, for any and everything, and we danced almost every dance. "

She gave a half-turn to illustrate, and her skirt swung gracefully, revealing a bit more of her slender legs.

"That lucky son of bitch," Sam thought with a pang of regret. Why had he never taken her out dancing? Leave it to Cliff to beat his time.

"And then we got back in the car and were on our way home, when the car 'ran out of gas'," she continued, making quotation marks with her fingers for emphasis.

Sam laughed again.

"The ol' empty tank bit, eh? That smoothie…"

"You haven't heard the half of it!"

"Oh man, this I gotta hear!"

Diane giggled in anticipation of his reaction to the next bit.

"Well, I don't know what possessed him, but after a moment, he began tracing little circles on my arm and singing 'Misty'!"

Sam just about fell to the floor in hysterics, but landed on the leather couch. He held his stomach as his laughter soared to new heights.

Diane was suddenly struck by the blank unholy absurdity of the situation, and dissolved into laughter herself.

"I don't believe it!" he cried.

"Oh, it's true!" She sat down next to him to illustrate, touching his upper arm just as Cliff did.

Startled by the sudden contact, Sam's laughter trailed off. He turned toward her, eyeing her bare shoulder.

"You mean like this?" he asked, running the backs of his fingers over her upper arm.

She felt an electric current run through her, and every nerve in her body snapped to attention at his touch. Her cheeks flushed and she cast her eyes downward, hiding a small smile. Her heart was pounding and her stomach was filled with thousands of little butterflies. Some things never changed.

"Yes… that's it."

He brushed a stray hair back behind her left ear, watching her face carefully for any sign of permission or denial. Her back arched just a little in response and he caught the faintest scent of her perfume. He inhaled deeply, his eyes roving down over her décolletage, now slightly more visible while sitting, as the stiff boning of the taffeta-lined bodice stood a scant millimeter away from her flesh. It was more than enough to set his imagination and pulse racing. She was exquisite.

Her eyes shut slowly and she inclined her ear ever so slightly toward his touch, relishing the feel of his fingers on her bare flesh. She was quietly being swept away, and had no desire to fight it. She had craved this for far too long.

He let his hand slide down over her shoulder, and ran his fingertips across her soft shoulder blades, sending a frisson of pleasure down her spine.

"I can't blame him for trying."

Diane turned and looked at him flirtatiously from under a veil of long lashes.

"Why Sam Malone, what are you saying?"

Between her eyes and the question, Sam was leveled, and couldn't conjure a response.

"I'm saying… hell, I don't know what I'm saying, Diane…"

Needing a bit more from him, she stood and smiled nonchalantly. "Well, that's alright. It's been a big evening. It was fun though, I have to admit it. " Like a little girl, she twirled a bit in her skirt, just to watch it billow and move around her. "I haven't danced in ages." Her necklace caught the light and matched the sparkle in her eyes.

Sam was spellbound. He couldn't look away from her, but suddenly had a thought.

"Wait… wait right there," he told her.

He ran out into the bar and urgently stuffed all the quarters he had into the jukebox then punched E7 repeatedly.

The faint tinkle of the opening notes of "Misty" filled the air as Sam reappeared in the back room. Diane grinned at his choice of music. Just like that, the song took on a whole new meaning. He dimmed the lights and approached her, looking her up and down appreciatively. Damn, she was perfect. Were those violins he was hearing?

"C'mere…" he grinned, extending a hand to her.

"Oh, Sam…" she laughed, taking his hand and letting him pull her near.

Johnny Mathis' voice wafted across the bar,_ "... I get misty, just holding your hand..."_

"Remember all those dance classes you made me go to? It's about time we put them to use."

Sam twirled her around the room a few times, thoroughly enjoying her smile and the feel of her in his arms again. This was where she belonged. He pulled her close, holding her tight against him.

"You look beautiful, Diane. I mean, you're always beautiful, but this… wow. It just about killed me to see you walk out of here on Cliff's arm. I never thought I'd be jealous of Cliff, but..."

His voice was low and soft. Diane let his words wash over her, melting at his sincerity. She turned her head and shifted her heavy-lidded gaze to meet his.

"Sam… you don't have to be jealous of anyone, and certainly not Clifford."

His heart pounded in his chest like a kick drum. He wanted to laugh at the sensations this woman could elicit from him with mere words. She was unbelievable.

"Diane… I…" he began, unable to put together a coherent thought.

"Maybe we should stop talking…" she smiled knowingly.

She leaned toward him and placed a warm, lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth and backed away, her eyes smoldering with an unspoken invitation.


	2. Chapter 2

He gave her a long look, full of the fire he had banked down deep inside for her. He stepped toward her, sinking his fingers into the back of her updo with one hand, and pulling her close with the other. He needed to taste her again, and she obliged immediately. Their tongues entwined, exploring each other's mouths, heated and hungry with desire. He moaned into her mouth in satisfaction, grinding his pelvis against hers.

She writhed against him in anticipation of his next move. He had cultivated an almost Pavlovian response in her body, and she ached for the sublime gratification he had conditioned her to expect.

He knew her body well— he dreamed about it in his most private moments and yearned to become intimately reacquainted with it. He wanted to make her forget any and every other man she'd ever known. Frasier, those Italian soccer players, the intellectual saps she brought around every so often… they never deserved her. They were never worthy of her. He wasn't sure he himself was, but he was brazen enough to want to claim her for his own once and for all.

Breaking the kiss, he let his gaze roam over her bare clavicle and further down to her cleavage. One hand trailed down her neck to her shoulders. He ran his fingers over the low neckline of her gown, pausing at the bottom of the V to rub his thumb over the contour of her right breast, gently cupping it in his hand. She caught her breath and felt her nipples stiffen against the fabric of her dress. He pulled her close again with his other hand and whispered in her ear, never ceasing his caress.

"Is this what you want, Diane?"

His breath was warm and his words set her on fire. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, her cheek pressed lightly to his.

"Mmmm… yeesss…" she murmured back, lost in sensation.

_"... but it's just what I want you to do..." _the song continued.

His touch was gentle, yet insistent, and she found herself savoring every stroke. He slowly slid the sweetheart line of the bodice down to reveal her bare breast and ran the flat palm of his hand over her rigid nipple, savoring the feel of her taut flesh, then tracing circles around it with his middle finger. She exhaled a long sigh of pleasure, and he rolled the pink bud between his thumb and index finger, plucking it ever so tenderly, and watching it deepen in color to a dusky rose. He extracted her other breast from its confines and marveled at how beautiful she was. Her breasts were small, but fit her slender body to perfection. He squeezed both before bowing to suckle at them, tugging at them hungrily, to her moans of bliss.

Consumed and enraptured, she felt her knees growing weak and leaned into him for support. Instead, he turned her to face the pool table, and she gripped it with both hands to steady herself. Regaining her balance, she heard the opening bars of "Misty" once again, and briefly wondered how many times this song had played through at this point, before losing herself to the moment once more.

He studied her from behind, her long, graceful neck sloping toward her delicate shoulders. He slipped behind her and placed warm, lingering kisses from her hairline down her vertebrae until he reached the zipper of her dress. He pulled at it, inch by inch revealing the creamy white flesh of her back. Her dress slipped easily over her hips and fell to the floor at her feet.

Sam inhaled sharply at the sight of her. She wore no bra, and was clad only in sheer black panties and a matching lace garter, to which her thigh high nude stockings were attached. Her long and endlessly thrilling legs were on full display and he almost felt dizzy taking them in, from her black heels all the way up to where the garters pulled tight over her perfectly formed ass. He felt himself growing hard, and shifted uncomfortably in his corduroy slacks. Instinctively, he reached out to run his hands over and over the curve of her heart-shaped bottom.

"Sweetheart… you had this on the whole time you were out with _Cliff_?"

She looked over her shoulder at him in amusement.

"I wasn't exactly thinking of him while I was dressing… I had other… things… on my mind," she averred with a sly smile.

He dropped to his knees and began to kiss her along her panty line before sliding the delicate garment over her hips and down to her ankles. His mind reeled: She wore her panties over the garter. People thought she was just book smart, but she knew way more than anyone would ever suspect. She'd certainly taught him plenty in their time together.

Garters intact, she stepped out of her panties and kicked them away with her dress, turning to face him, and Sam parted her legs. The faint scent of her perfume now mixed with her delectable musk… equal parts honey and rain water, and unmistakably Diane. Sam inhaled deeply, his mouth watering. He needed to consume her- to hold her in his mouth and taste her on his tongue.

His right hand trailed up her inner thigh, and he slid his thumb over her warm, wet sex and until he reached her clitoris. She arched her back to grind against him, and he increased the pressure of his thumb, making small, slow circles, while penetrating her with his index and middle fingers. She was slick with desire, and he watched his fingers slide easily in and out of her.

Wanting more of her, he gripped her hips and guided her over to the leather couch behind him. She sat down and leaned back, her long, graceful legs slightly parted, an alabaster goddess holding sexual court, awaiting the favors of her beloved knave.

He was all too eager to oblige. He knelt before her, and sliding his hands over her perfect thighs, leaned in to sate his hunger. She lurched against the heat of his tongue. The man knew what he was doing, and she was enthralled by his technique. His fingers splayed wide against her, he lapped and sucked intently and deliberately at the tender and swollen gathering of flesh and nerve endings hidden within, coaxing and consuming her, and she could not hold back a cry of pleasure. He moaned in response, the low vibration of the sound stimulating her even further.

Having forgotten to breathe, she gasped for air, then relaxed and luxuriated in his intimate attentions. She'd waited for this for far too long. She resolved never to delay such gratification in the future. It was just too good. He was just too good. She needed this. She needed him.

She ran her fingers through his chestnut hair, occasionally clutching at it when he brought her to the brink. He did this over and over again until she thought she'd go mad. She knew he was building to the ultimate release and that he knew exactly how to get her there. At last, she felt a wave of warmth radiating out from her core and knew she was riding an incredibly powerful orgasm- there would be no stopping it. She bucked with abandon against his mouth, but he held her fast, unyielding. One hand clutching his hair and the other clawing at the leather couch, she arched her back and came in a rush of adrenaline and ecstasy.

"Oohhhhhhhhhh…. Sam… Saaammm… Ohhh G-Godddd… "

He held her until her inner tremors subsided to a low throb. Her cries had sent his already painfully hard erection into overdrive and he began to tear at his belt and then his button and zipper for some relief from the pressure. He was a magnificently endowed man, and at times like this, pants were a hardship. He quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothing. Watching her collapsed, breathless on the brown leather, he began to self-soothe, stroking himself slowly, hoping to God she'd want more. She did.

Recovering, she opened her eyes. His tan, lean torso was framed by the powerful muscles of his arms and shoulders. His athletic build and chest hair never ceased to thrill her. Sam Malone was all man. Standing there touching himself, he stoked in her an inferno of such raw intensity, she could do nothing but lunge for him. She grabbed his hips and pulled him toward her hungry mouth, taking his shaft firmly in hand and continuing his ministrations while intently running her tongue over the tip.

She could feel his arousal growing, the veins in his member pulsing with pent up need, and she held him between her lips, slowly sucking and lapping at him. She cradled his balls with her free hand, and felt them tighten under her firm caress. He groaned in deep and burgeoning satisfaction and began rocking his hips to gently thrust into her mouth.

"Oh, ffff... Diane..."

She wanted him to come hard, just as she had, and knew she could effortlessly bring him there orally—she was quite proud of her particular talent in that area- but he would have none of it. He wanted to inhabit her and come deep inside of her, and maybe bring her off one more time as well. He wouldn't have cared if she were any other woman, but this was Diane, and there was nothing that turned him on more than watching her lose control. Fighting his more immediate urge to get off, he pushed back from her and guided her to her feet. Taking himself in hand, he looked her over ravenously.

"The table," he exhaled, nodding in that direction. She took two long strides to acquiesce, thrilled at the prospect of what was to come.

Her long legs still perched atop her high heels, she leaned over the pool table, parting her legs just enough to reveal her deep pink entrance glistening with desire. He immediately positioned himself behind her and ran his engorged arousal over and over her hot, slick passage, trying to prolong the long-awaited ecstasy of being inside her once more. For more than a year he'd watched her, longing for her touch, and had been driven quietly mad by her other entanglements. He'd waited so long for this. For her.

Aching with anticipation, she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Sam… please…"

That was all he needed. Without another word, he thrust himself deep inside of her, and she cried out in surprise. She was always startled by his length and girth. He filled her completely, and it was wonderful.

Sam gasped at the heat of her silky inner walls stretched snugly against him. He had to ease back a bit to keep himself from combusting on contact. Keeping still for a moment, he closed his eyes and marveled at this incredibly tight fit. He couldn't look at her just yet, because that would send him right over the edge. Instead, he gripped her hips and kneaded her ass with his thumbs, anchoring her firmly to the table. His first strokes were long and slow as he savored the feel of her. No matter how many women he had, none of them felt like Diane.

He reached around and down between her legs to pleasure her further and she fell forward over the table at this additional layer of stimulation. He looked down at her and was captivated by the sight of her firm, upturned ass, bouncing lightly with every thrust. He ran his other hand over her porcelain back, admiring its perfection.

He needed more of her. He needed to possess her utterly. He reached his free hand around to pull her upright. Holding her tightly to him, he squeezed her breasts as he continued to massage her with his other hand until he felt her clench tightly around him.

She gasped and a choked cry escaped her throat as she was overtaken by another powerful climax. She felt tears come to her eyes as waves of warmth and pleasure washed over her again and again. It seemed like it would go on forever. She was overcome by the intensity of her release, and her inner walls convulsed and shuddered against him.

Enflamed by her unbridled physical response, he was struck by the need to see her- to connect with her in every way. Without a word, he turned her to face him and lifted her up onto the pool table. Her wide blue eyes met his in perfect satisfaction.

She smiled, relishing the sight of him. My God, he was handsome. She'd never get used to that. His face recalled finely chiseled Roman statuary, and his steely blue grey eyes framed by his heavy brow line made his visage the epitome of masculinity. It thrilled her to no end to share such sublime and primal intimacy with a man such as this. Sam was exactly what she needed and all she ever desired, and her love for him filled every corner of her heart. She ran her fingers through his dark mane and kissed him deeply.

He re-entered her, slowly at first, then gradually driving faster and harder into her. She just felt so damn good, and he needed more and more of her. She wrapped her legs around him without breaking eye contact, and he felt as if the entire world were his very own. His jaw was clenched and dotted with perspiration, and his motion became more urgent as he felt himself approaching his release. Feeling his climax building, and savoring the feel of him deep inside of her, she smiled a secret smile meant only for him.

"Yessss... mon coeur... yesss..."

Her voice, soft and husky with passion, was the tipping point, and he could not hold back the surge of ecstasy that she'd set loose.

"Unhhhh… Oh God, Diane… Diane… Ohhhhhh… mmmmmm… mmmm… Oh… God… "

He felt incredibly alive at that moment. Over the past year, he'd been slogging through a bad dream—an emotional fog, never allowing himself to feel or express himself, and now suddenly she'd given him his life back, just by sharing herself with him again. He could almost cry with relief. Beautiful, impossible, impossibly beautiful Diane -– _his_ Diane - was back in his arms, and this time, he wouldn't let her go.

_"... That's why I'm following you..." _Mathis crooned just for her.

He lay down beside her on the pool table. Thoroughly and blissfully spent, he just held her, feeling her heart beat against his rib cage and savoring that simple closeness.

Diane marveled at the way the events of the evening had unfolded. Of course, she'd fantasized that something like this would transpire, but she could never have predicted what happened tonight. She smiled and shook her head lightly in amazement, as if waking from a dream.

"What?" he grinned.

"Nothing…" she laughed, "well, actually I was just struck by the fact that after all this time, the stars seem to have aligned once more for us to end up here, together. I wonder if it's the grand design of the universe that we keep finding ourselves in each other's arms. If what seems like a chaotic whirlwind of random causality might actually be pre-ordained somehow."

"Yeah, maybe it's fate or something. What did we come back here for in the first place?"

"I think you were going to cover the pool table."

Looking at each other under the low amber glow of the stained glass lamp that hung overhead, the humor in that statement was lost on neither of them.

_"... I'm too misty, and too much in love."_


End file.
